Now,” Sarah called out. “But I haven’t finished my pizza.” “You don’t need to finish it. That’s the burnt bit,” Sarah said, pointing to the two charred pieces that lay on Ali’s plate. There was a chip on the side of his plate. Sarah wondered when that had happened, but couldn’t be bothered to ask. She had bigger things to worry about. “But I like the burnt bits.” Ali stuffed another slice into his mouth. “You can take them upstairs with you; just go up to your bedroom.” “Who’s the bloke at the door? Is he still there?” Ali picked up his plate and headed towards the front door. “Ali, ignore him and go to your room.” Ali walked upstairs as slowly as he possibly could. “Who are you telling to ignore me?” the man at the door asked in a thick Arabic accent. “You’ve learnt English,” was all that Sarah said in response. The last time she’d seen him, his English was elementary at best. “I had to learn it so I could find you, but now I’m here, is that all you can say to me?”
